


Interbellum

by factorielle



Category: Suikoden Tierkreis
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Chaptered, F/F, F/M, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-05-19
Updated: 2010-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/factorielle/pseuds/factorielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The One King has been defeated; now comes reconstruction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interbellum

The third time Chrodechild glanced across the table, she almost growled at herself. Restraining the noise to a semi-cough low in her throat took some effort, but it was worth it. There was no doubt that behind his benevolent smile and relaxed pose, the boy –the man– opposite her was cataloguing her every reaction.

In fact, it was the reason why she was having trouble concentrating.

Chrodechild's earliest memory of Prince Shams was one of a boy sitting across from her at his father's table, paying no attention to anything but the roasted swan and struggling not to fall asleep in his subtly elevated chair. Four years later, he was back in front of her, and a document of thirty-six finely written pages had replaced the roast: civic and territorial borders, bilateral investments, trade of key resources. Every treaty Astrasia and the Magedom of Janam had never even thought of sharing was outlined there, with none of the treacherous circumlocutions that had weighed on her every day in El-Qaral. She had no idea when Danash had taken the time to educate his son in the ways of diplomacy amidst the carefully engineered chaos of the Imperial Court, and the chasm between the sleepy child whose crown was permanently threatening to fall off his head and the ruler whose servant had formally asked for an audience was proving difficult to bridge.

More importantly, she did not know what to make of the document he had presented her. Surely he could not expect her to sign off on it like this, with no witnesses, in the Great Hall of the Company they'd both left, formally if not physically, at the end of the eve's celebratory banquet. He knew she would need to think about this, and not by herself.

"I have no objection at first glance. Both our countries would certainly profit from such an agreement." She looked at him again, deliberately this time. "But you will understand that I can not possibly give you an answer so soon."

His answering smile was bright, genuine. "Of course. I myself am not yet empowered to ratify such a document on my own." His stance was perfect, as were the pitch of his voice and his delivery. She remembered being his age, trying her hardest to hold entertaining conversations with her father's lieges. How stilted and out of place she'd felt, how she'd longed for the familiarity of the training room. Shams, on the contrary, seemed perfectly comfortable. "I only wished to present it to your and your council's attention, and hope that it can become the foundation of a fruitful relationship between Astrasia and Salsabil."

Her council. She would have to face it sooner rather than later, now, and the prospect brought her no joy. The thought crossed her mind that Shams might already know what was in store for her and had dropped the word to destabilize her, but she chased it away. There was no point in doing such a thing now, even if he had been the kind of person to use such tactics. "We will pay the utmost attention to the generous offer of the Kingdom of Salsabil."

"We will be waiting for your answer." Something in his expression seemed to relax. "There is one more topic I wished to discuss with you, but in this I come to you as a fellow member of Lord Sieg's company."

'Former member' would have been more appropriate, but Chrodechild empathized with his reluctance. The Company was dismantling itself, most of its members preparing to return home now that its founding goal was fulfilled, and the sight of it left her with a feeling of emptiness that she could not explain. Having longed for Pharamond for so long, leaving the castle for good should have proven easier than it was.

"I will be returning to Salsabil on the morning of the day after tomorrow. It is already agreed that Taj, Wustum and Misrach will come with me, and that Manaril will remain with Mubal at the castle, as they appear to have reached a key point in their research."

Chrodechild nodded, made uneasy again by the one name he hadn't mentioned.

"However, I have not asked Asad yet if he wished to return with us. In all honesty, I hope that you will allow him to head to Pharamond instead."

Chrodechild shook her head. It had been days since she'd truly spoken to Asad, and for good reason. The way she'd treated him was an offence. "I do not think he would wish to." Not after she'd dismissed his confession, waving the impending threat of death before the One King as a reason to avoid acknowledging his feelings. He would have deserved a better answer, but she'd been too surprised.

Or perhaps not enough.

"I am aware of the events you are referring to," Shams answered. "As is everyone in the castle, with the possible exception" his smile grew wider for an instant "of Lord Sieg himself."

Chrodechild didn't even need to ask how. She had come across Anya mere minutes after Asad had excused himself.

"Then you understand why--"

As far back as she looked, Chrodechild couldn't recall a single occurrence of Prince Shams cutting someone off before. "I believe you are mistaken. I have known Asad for many years, and I am fairly certain that in coming to you he did not expect a positive resolution, and certainly had no intention of pressuring you into anything. He merely did not want to risk dying with regrets."

He seemed so certain of his explanation that she couldn't help the thought. _What regrets would_ you _have died with?_

"Nevertheless, would he not want to go home, after so long?"

Shams looked away from her for what seemed to be the first time since he'd come in. "My father and General Shairah both had strong personalities, that attracted the devotion of those who served under them. Nevertheless, the Mage Forces did not vow allegiance to the Mage Lord or the commander in chief, but to the Magedom itself. I would never doubt Asad's loyalty to myself or Manaril, but..." For the split second that his hesitation lasted, Shams looked his own age; it was almost disturbing. "The Magedom is no more. And his parents lived at the northern edge of the Kingdom of Salsabil. In fact, the outer wall of their garden still stands, at the border of the desert." He paused, and was delicate enough to not be watching when the full force of the revelation hit her.

She hadn't known. Asad had stood by her side for the two years before they'd encountered Sieg, had deserted his commander and his men for a slight committed against her, had been in first line to reconquer Pharamond from the Order, and still she hadn't known a thing about this.

Had he never told her, never hinted? Or had she not listened?

"There is no doubt," Shams went on without acknowledging her reaction, "that Asad's sense of duty would make him come back with me if I were to ask, and that he would never impose his presence anywhere he is not invited. But regardless of his dedication to you, he appears to have grown fond of both the city of Pharamond and its inhabitants, and I believe that he would rather be of use to you than serve as commander in chief of my army. "

"You would be losing a valuable element" was the only answer her dry throat could formulate.

Shams nodded. "I would, and there are those back home who will condemn my choice. But Salsabil is no longer at war. It is now time for me to ensure the happiness of my people, rather than their mere survival. Especially those who have lost the most to this war." He got up. "Tomorrow afternoon I will ask Asad to come back with me. I hope that before then you can consider my request."

* * *

The Blades of the Night's Veil had barely moved into the castle that Roberto had been sent on gardening duty, and despite a strong urge to tell the brainless leader where he could shove his spades, he'd done his best not to bring shame on princess Chrodechild and the Blades. After half a day he'd even found out that the work wasn't as demeaning as he'd first thought, and that Yadima's chatter about life back in Citro Village was full of amusing anecdotes about two boisterous boys and the little girl doing her best to keep them in check.

In the ensuing months he'd been sent back a few times, and he'd taken the occasion to talk to whoever was there with him and learn about pekklar hunting and the world as it should be, even as he worked his hardest to provide good crops to the Company. With Yadima around all that time, Roberto was confident that by the fourth time he knew more about the history of Citro Village than most of its natives, even if it was mostly from the vegetables standpoint.

This time, Muro had abandoned his post for the few days necessary to accompany the rest of the Auster Folk back to Lugenik. When Yadima asked for someone to pick up the slack, Sieg in his enduring lack of wisdom had taken a look at the departing Roar, and sent Roberto.

By himself. In a sun so scorching that even Yadima had retreated to the shadow of his small hut at the end of the field.

"Why did he ask me, anyway? The Blades are not even part of his dumb company anymore!" And he wouldn't even get to taste the fruits of his work this time, since the princess had decided to return to Astrasia in a few days.

He heard a short, mirthful laugh, and turned around to find Asad, leaning on the fence with a glass in each hand. "I'm sure if you had reminded him of that he would have been glad to send someone else."

Roberto scowled. "Your opinion was not required." Every word was punctuated with a shovelful of dirt tossed to the side. "What are you even doing out here?" Not that he was interested, because all he wanted was to get done with this and go back to the relative coolness of the castle, though maybe only after taking a dip in the lake.

Asad looked at the glasses as though he was just discovering their existence. "Chef Wustum and Lady Sphiel created a new snowy drink. Since Lord Sieg has often seen fit to ask Commander Chrodechild to tend to the field, I thought that perhaps..."

"The princess is not here." This was embarrassing. Everyone in the castle, and by now half of Pharamond knew what had happened on the evening before the defeat of the One King. Wasn't Asad ever going to let go, or at least become less obvious? "But if your intent was to provide support to the people on field duty..." He dug the shovel even harder than usual, and abandoned it there to head towards Asad.

The mage, who had probably never known physical work in his life, handed him one of the drinks as though it had been his intention all along. It was as delicious as advertised, cold and smooth down his throat, fruity but not too sweet. Roberto recognized peach and mint, but that was all he bothered to taste before focusing on enjoying it. "It's good," he conceded when there was not a drop left, and sighed in pleasure as the heat gathered in his muscles seemed to dissolve to mere warmth.

"Are you slacking on your last assignment here, Roberto?"

Asad jumped just as high as Roberto did, splashing his drink all over himself. That was about the only funny thing about the intervention, because Meruvis was looking at Roberto in that perfectly neutral gaze that promised unpleasant times in the near future.

"Only taking a quick break, sir. I'll go back now."

"You do that."

Roberto ran back to the shovel as fast as possible, abandoning the glass on the fence, but couldn't help looking back, wondering what Meruvis was doing here when he was supposed to oversee the preparations for the Blades' return to Pharamond. From the looks of it he had something to tell Asad, a message that he delivered quickly before heading back to the castle.

Instead of rushing there as well, as he would have if the princess had called for him, Asad remained stuck on the spot with a stupid expression on his face until Roberto gave up on trying to figure out what had just happened, and turned back to his task.  


* * *

Once the victory banquet was over, the actual separation hadn't been a big affair. Sieg had waved off the Auster Folk and the Furious Roar with the happy grin of someone convinced that there was no reason for them not to meet again, as long as they tried. He was even off on a mission on the morning Shams was set to leave, which took away any air of formality there might have been in four people stepping through a door.

Shams stood around for a moment, slightly uneasy at the lack of decorum. Everything in his education told him that there should be a ceremony to a parting of the ways such as this one, but instead there was Hotupa trying his best not to look impatient as he stood by the yellow glow of the Gateway.

"King Shams. I wish you a safe return." Asad looked slightly uneasy, as he'd been ever since declining the offer to come back to Salsabil and its army.

Shams was only glad that Chrodechild had heard his request. "Thank you, my friend. May you find everything you wish for in your new home." Then he turned to Manaril, not wanting to let Asad regret the decision enough to change his mind.

"Brother!" Her voice was full of tears but she wore the bright, brilliant smile that had made every morning easier until she had been taken to the Arcane Academy. He smiled back against the feeling that this was the end of something precious, and hugged her tight against him. She felt frail in his arms, despite the power he'd witnessed in her countless times. His little sister, whom he should have protected so much better for so many years, was now powerful enough to defend herself against most threats, and did not need him to hover behind her anymore.

He would still have preferred to take her back with him. "You know that you can return to Salsabil at any time," he whispered against her hair, knowing already that it wouldn't make her change her mind.

She chuckled, and it seemed like any tears were gone now. Maybe he was having more trouble with this separation than she was. It was not a pleasant thought. "I know, my dear brother. And you can come back here as well."

"I will," he promised before taking a deep breath and letting her go at last. He took a step back in order to resist the urge to pull his baby sister against him again, then bid Mubal and Sophia goodbye as well, as Manaril encouraged Wustum not to relent in his efforts to cure his taste buds. He was about to step back towards the Gateway he saw Manaril facing Taj, smiling uncertainly. They remained this way for a few too many seconds, Taj shifting from one foot to the other, until Manaril launched herself at him with her arms wide open. He caught her easily, and Shams wondered if anyone else could see the astonished delight in Taj's expression as he hugged her in much the same way Shams had earlier.

"Take good care of my brother," she instructed in a stage whisper when they let go.

"With my life, princess." Taj looked embarrassed at his own boldness, but he still answered without a pause and Shams felt the tightening in his chest that always accompanied a reassertion of Taj's unwavering loyalty.

There was a moment of silence until Hotupa shook himself and suggested that it was time to go. Taj was first to step in the Corridor, then first again to exit through the El-Qaral Gateway, ensuring as always that no unexpected harm would befall his king.

The Arcane Academy looked the same as it had when Shams had last been there, to take the mementos that Nofret's team had dug up. Now that she had moved their operations to Rarohenga, the Mage City was silent again, with no other life than the kind that attacked them as soon as they were out of the building. As the last of them fell under an easy stroke of his sword, Shams thought that El-Qaral might be less dangerous to him now than it had been before being invaded by monsters.

He chastised himself for the traitorous thought, as the tears he had managed to push back earlier welled up in his eyes.

He had hoped. Against all sense, against all the explanations provided by visitors from other worlds and the Company's own experts on the Chronicles, he had hoped that maybe, when everything was over, El-Qaral could be reinstated to what it had been, and his people's memory restored. But neither Diadora nor Sophia had deemed it possible, and the three days Sieg had granted him to look for a way in the True Chronicle had been enough to convince him that what was done could not be changed.

The Mage City was as it would remain, and it was his duty to ensure that it would be remembered for what it had been.

"King Shams, are you all right?" It was Misrach -- Wustum too distant and Taj knowing him too well to intrude on what should have been a private moment of mourning. Shams wiped his eyes.

"All is well. Let us go, we have a long road ahead of us."


End file.
